Defining the end of a dusty path, a bright white beacon shines. I have steered my bike through rocky roads past rickshaws and careering jeeps, but now park up in its garden setting.
Although magnetised by the calm glory of this marvellous shrine just ahead, children distract me with a humble game. It plays like boules, utilising instead coins and a hole dug shallow in the ground. Charmed with their smiles and greetings, I attempt to play. Failing to impress them, I pass on down the path ahead.
Here, although alone, butterflies provide ample company. Their movements, despite seeming effortless, follow systems and motives which complete their beauty. Looking upwards from my captured gaze upon these silky birds, the Peace Pagoda impresses more with closer proximity.
I click off first my right sandal, then the left, pattering forwards up marble stairs. The marble feels hot underfoot, but is smooth enough to remain pleasurable. The sun, shaded by thin cloud, still beats, but does not quite glisten upon the golden spire. Instead, it is the white sphere roof and curving path which provides subtle spectacle.
I have followed the path of these many tonnes of marble from Western Rajisthan. There it seemed economic and constructional like brick or concrete. Here it blends and soothes through crafted curve.
Before I can complete one soft-footed circle, the peace changes. Now, delighted schoolchildren flock towards these steps, scattering butterflies as they run.
I don my sandals, selecting with ease from a hundred polished black shoes, and escape through a rusted iron door to new peace.
